


A Promise

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: Pride Month Prompts 2019 [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Canon Bisexual Character, F/F, Sexual Tension, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, commitment issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 10:17:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19249165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: After the events of Ragnarok, the Asgardians settle on Earth. Thor tries to set Brunhilde up with the reader.





	A Promise

The Compound was smaller than she’d imagined but then not an awful lot on Midgard compared to the grandeurs of Asgard or the tacky monuments of Sakaar. Thor introduced Brunhilde to the rest of the team during one of his meetings to update them on the status of New Asgard. That was the official reason for the visit - some pointless piece of paper called the Accords declared that he had to have a reason to step foot in America - but she knew it was really just because he missed his friends. Why Thor had dragged her along, though, she had no idea.

Midgardians were dull and Brunhilde soon found herself drifting out of the conversation. Without a word to her king, she slipped away from the rest of the group and began to explore the Compound in search of something more entertaining. Soon enough, she found what she’d been looking for: the training room. There was, after all, no better way to pass the day than hitting things. Except for perhaps drinking. That was a good use of time too.

She pushed the door open and stopped dead in her tracks. It was like the start of a wonderful sex dream; two beautiful, dangerous women fighting it out. Sweaty bodies, skin shining in the dim light, moved together in a deadly dance, barely touching but each jab, each hit, coming from a powerful place deep inside you. Heavy breathing and primal grunts filled the air, a symphony of two noble warriors in battle.

The red head Brunhilde knew. Natasha was a brave and fierce woman, her red hair a literal representation of the fire that burned in her heart. She moved with the grace of a dancer, every move perfectly placed and followed through with a force someone that small should not possess. It was a pleasure to watch her fight. Even though she never lost, it was fascinating to see her systematically take down her opponents.

However, today, Natasha seemed to be on the back foot.

Brunhilde had never seen you before and she couldn’t take her eyes off you. You blocked all of Natasha’s hits, somehow anticipating her every move. Your fighting style was unpredictable, unique. As you brought your elbow round to her face, you suddenly changed direction before making the hit and caught Natasha in her feign, swinging a leg round beneath her to send her crashing down onto the mat.

You were on her in an instant, pinning her down on the ground with a victorious smirk. Out the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Brunhilde standing in the doorway and your focus faltered. For a second, there was nothing else in the room, in the universe. Just you and her, between breaths, mesmerised by the other’s beauty.

It was as if someone had frozen time and taken a snapshot of this moment to preserve it for all of time. Everything was perfect, like it could only have been designed. The afternoon sun streaming down through the window, throwing shadows over your face which only served to highlight your angelic nature.

You weren’t the kind of angel to forgive, though. Brunhilde could see it in your eyes, in the way they burned. The intensity that surrounded you, radiated from your body, was that of an avenging angel. One who looked upon the world and saw all its demons but instead of running away and hiding you faced them head on, vanquishing any who dared step in your way.

Brunhilde hadn’t felt this way in centuries. This was more than base lust, although that was certainly present in heavy quantities. This was the kind of connection that was only mentioned in tales from old Asgard, the stories which spoke of destiny and prophecies and soulmates. It was overwhelming and absolutely terrifying and god she wished she had a drink in her hand.

Taking full advantage of your distraction, Natasha flipped you over her head and sent you crashing into the wall. Brunhilde instinctively stepped forward to help you but paused when she saw the glimmer in your eyes. More determined to win than ever, you lunged at the red head and brought her down in a frenzy of coordinated and exceptionally well placed attacks.

Foot on her chest to keep her down, Natasha tapped out and let out a heavy sigh when you finally stepped away. She instantly accepted your outstretched hand and shook it vigorously. “Good one. Don’t go so easy on me next time, though.”

Regaining her composure, Brunhilde stepped into the training room and walked straight over to Natasha. “Good to see you again, Widow. That was an impressive fight.”

“Val, this is Y/N. She headed a tactical team at SHIELD before, well, everything. She’s one of the best fighters they ever had. The only one of us who ever managed to hold their own against Melinda May.”

“Is any of that supposed to mean something to me?”

“What Nat’s trying to say is that I’m awesome and I could kick your ass into next week if you let me try.”

“Modest too, huh?”

You shrugged, dabbing your forehead with a towel. “I’m good. I know it. No point in trying to deny it.”

A smile stretched across Brunhilde’s face. Your confidence was refreshing. So often she found that people hid their best qualities, too scared of the world to walk with their heads held high and accept the praise they so rightfully deserved. That you barely battered an eyelid at Natasha’s compliment, embraced it even, was utterly fascinating to Brunhilde.

As you walked past her towards the door, no doubt heading for a shower after your workout, you pulled the blade from her boot and balanced it in your palms, admiring the blue shine. Brunhilde could have stopped you, should have, really, since mortals weren’t supposed to handle Dragonfang, but an odd feeling in her gut convinced her that you were trustworthy.

Testing the weight, clearly astonished by the absolutely perfect balance on it, you looked up to Brunhilde and said, “This is nice. Really nice. Where can I get one?”

“Find yourself an inter-dimensional dragon, tear a tooth from its skull and have a morally corrupt wizard to transform it into a sword for you.”

“Sounds easy enough. Can I have a go? I really wanna see what this can cut through.”

If you had been anyone else, Brunhilde wouldn’t have even considered it but she couldn’t quite find it in herself to say no when you were grinning at her that way. While she was often charmed by a pretty face, she never let her guard down around them. However with you, she almost wanted to try.

Before she could entertain that thought any longer, a booming, unmistakable voice called her name from outside the training room. Brunhilde took the blade from your hand, a spark running down her arm as her fingers brushed across your skin. She looked up at you, half expecting you to recoil in horror or something, but you just smiled.

“I should go,” Brunhilde muttered, slipping Dragonfang back into her boot. “Some other time, I guess. Hit me up if you ever find yourself in New Asgard, yeah?”

“You can count on it.”

Thor managed to hold back on his questioning for ten whole seconds before his control broke. “So… What do you think of the team?”

Brunhilde shrugged. “They’re alright, I guess.”

“What about Y/N?”

She narrowed her eyes at the mention of your name. “What about her?”

“Nothing. I just thought you two might get along.”

“Subtlety is not your forte, Thor.”

He threw his arm around her shoulders but immediately let it drop under her death glare. “I just want you to be happy here on Earth." 

"There’s alcohol and violence. I’ll be fine.”

“Brun-” Thor stopped himself from speaking her name, well aware after their months of travelling together how she preferred the neutral title of Valkyrie. Correcting his mistake, he continued, “Val, a brave warrior deserves a mate worthy of her time. You deserve the chance to make a life and -”

“Tried that once, didn’t end well,” she interrupted. Sometimes Brunhilde found herself thinking about how Midgard could be a new start for her. She’d cut down on her drinking, restricting herself to meals and evenings only, and despite her best efforts had found a place in the New Asgardian society.

But every time it looked as if things were going well, the memories of the past would resurface. All the times she’d failed to protect the ones she’d loved. The countless ways she had disappointed them and run away because she didn’t feel worthy of the affections they gave. It reminded her that she wasn’t destined for that kind of life. It was easier to avoid it all together with meaningless flings than risk having her heart broken again.

Thor sighed, clearly wanting to say more on the matter, but wisely chose to drop the subject. “Bruce is waiting for us in the hanger. We should be moving.”

“After you, your Majesty.”

***

The months passed without so much as a word from The Compound or the Avengers and slowly but surely New Asgard began to thrive. What was left of the once mighty civilisation was surprisingly happy to relinquish the ways of the ancestors and the people of Asgard found an unexpected comfort in the easy life they found in this quiet fishing village.

Even Brunhilde found herself finding a peace in this new way of life. There were days, though, where she longed for the rush of battle and the excitement that the rest of the universe offered. However, she was needed here in New Asgard and it had been so long since anyone had actually wanted her around so she stayed put.

One warm summer’s day, she was surprised by a knock on the door. She hadn’t been expecting company and, old habits dying hard, she grabbed her sword on the way to answer it just in case. Trouble was rare here in New Asgard but that didn’t mean Brunhilde ever completely relaxed.

Opening the door, she let out a groan. “Oh. It’s you. What do you want?”

“Pleasure to see you too, as always.”

“Get on with it, Lakey.” Brunhilde’s fingers flexed around the hilt of Dragonfang. She could put the sword down; Loki was hardly a threat, after all. In the end, she decided to keep it to hand to spite the younger prince, finding great pleasure in the way she could see his memories flashing before his eyes when he saw the blade’s gentle blue shimmer. All the glorious times she’d beaten his ass into the ground. Oh, those were the good times.

“Some of the Avengers came to visit. One of them is asking for you.”

She wondered if it was you. After all, who else would want to see her? Hiding her excitement, Brunhilde asked, “So you’ve been demoted to an errand boy? Do such a useless job at keeping the council in command that you’re only trusted with delivering messages now?”

Loki rolled his eyes, far from impressed by her teasing. “Are you going to indulge the mortals or not?”

Brunhilde put on a bored face, even though she was excited to see you again. In the months since you’d met at the Compound, she hadn’t been able to rid you from her mind. You didn’t occupy her thoughts all the time but, when she found herself at rest, your face often appeared to her as she imagined what life may be like if you were by her side to share in the peaceful moments. “I suppose.”

They walked silently to the Village Hall and parted ways with a not entirely unfriendly smile at the large door. For his faults, and there were many, Brunhilde had found Loki’s presence useful in New Asgard. He was incredibly resourceful and he had proved his worth over and over again. Still, she couldn’t help but tease him at every opportunity and she knew the feeling was mutual.

A quick sweep of the room had Brunhilde’s face falling. You weren’t there.

Thor noticed her in the corner of the room and came over to greet her. Handing her a large mug of beer, the King said, “So glad you could join us, Val.”

“Yeah, well, I was told there would be free booze.”

“She’s in the Training Hall,” Thor murmured, clapping her on the back before disappearing into the crowd to entertain his guests once more.

Brunhilde wasted no time in slipping away. The evening air was warm as she crossed the cobblestone paths of the village to the Training Hall. Even before the building came into sight, the heavy grunts of battle sounding in the air. Inside she made herself comfortable against the doorframe, watching you as you sparred with one of the younger refuges.

Life was different here than what they had grown used to in Asgard, or even on the Statesmen. It was simpler, focused solely on survival, but the fire still burned in the hearts of the warriors and they longed for battle. Brunhilde knew, she understood, because it was a fire which burned inside of her too.

However, in setting up their new lives here, there was rarely time to train. It was no wonder that the plucky teen had taken you up on your offer to spar and work off some of the tension. He had the advantage of weight and strength behind him but you had speed and skill on your side. The ease with which you brought him to the ground was impressive to say the least.

You offered the child a hand up from the ground and patted him on the back, congratulating him for his efforts. As you prepared for a rematch, you caught sight of Brunhilde watching from the doorway and your face lit up. Wiping the sweat from your forehead, you called, “I was hoping I’d find you here.”

“Here I am.” To the boy, she said lightly, “Scram, kid. There’s food and drink in the Village Hall. The cooks went all out this time so you’d better run before it’s all gone. And apologise to your mother for being late!”

“Sure, Val. Bye, Y/N!” he yelled, following his nose and already half way down the road towards the feast.

“Why aren’t you at the celebrations?”

“I was but you weren’t there.” You looked up from beneath your eyelashes, uncharacteristically shy. Of course, Brunhilde barely knew you and couldn’t assume to know all that much about you but from the little time you’d spent in each others’ company she was fairly certain that vulnerability was a rare look on you. 

Shifting your weight from foot to foot, you tilted your head to the side and asked, “You, uh, wanna fight?”

“We could do that or…” Brunhilde pulled a large bottle from behind her back. “I snatched this from the celebrations. There’s a good spot up on the cliffs where we can go get drunk.”

“Sounds perfect. Lead the way.”

The view from cliffs was spectacular - for Midgard, anyway. Brunhilde found herself up here more often that not. She enjoyed the solitude, the chance to clear her mind and savour her own company. No one dared join her and she knew they would talk once they discovered she’d brought you up into her special spot.

So far from the port the air was fresh and clear up here, free from the constant stench of fish that hung over most of the village. The seabirds had nested for the evening and the only sound was that of the waves rolling gently below you. The merriment of the village was softened into a quiet mumble by distance, carried away into the dark night by the soft, warm breeze.

Despite her suggestion, the two of you weren’t really drinking with the view of getting drunk. You paced yourself, enjoying the taste of the very expensive liquor and praising Tony Stark for being a man of such high standards when it came to alcohol.

Conversation flowed freely and easily between you as the moon traversed the starry sky. Your eyes shimmered in its gentle glow and Brunhilde couldn’t tear her gaze from you. Her initial assessment of you had been correct; you truly were an angel in disguise. She didn’t feel worthy of your attention. What could someone as broken and damaged as her give you?

Out of the blue, as if somehow sensing her thoughts, you rolled on to your side to face her. Your gaze drifted between her eyes and her mouth, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you stared shamelessly in want. “You are amazing, Val.”

“Y/N…”

You didn’t give her the opportunity to protest. You closed the gap between you and pressed your mouth against hers in a rough, passionate kiss. She could taste the alcohol on your lips, nowhere near as intoxicating as you. It was like she was falling, lost in the dizzying headiness of your hands roaming over her body, the tangle of your hair around her fingers.

Brunhilde had been with more partners than she cared to remember. She’d spent long weekends bathed in the heat of passion but none of those encounters came close to this one kiss with you. Everyone paled in comparison to you. All it had taken was one kiss and she was head over fucking heels for you.

And it was petrifying.

She had buried these feelings away so long ago, stuffed them in a box, put up the tallest walls around her heart to stop herself from ever losing herself in love again. Yet here she was feeling all those feelings for you now. She didn’t want them. If she opened herself up to you then she’d have to face losing you too. It was inevitable. She would outlive you or would have to watch you die on a pointless crusade. She couldn’t face that again.

You must have felt her tense as you immediately pulled away. Your hand still resting on her cheek, fingers as light as a butterfly’s wings on her skin, you asked, “Was that… You wanted that, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you have no idea. But -”

“I get it. Our lives aren’t easy.” Even without an explanation you understood perfectly and just smiled, rolling over onto your back and staring up at the stars. Brunhilde relaxed as you drew your fingers over her skin, the light random touches significantly reducing her urge to run and hide. “I’m leaving tomorrow, you know. If you wanted to have a bit of fun then we could. No need to get serious.”

She laughed at your lack of subtlety but was secretly grateful that you’d given her a way to justify this to herself without having to admit the true extent of her unexpected feelings for you. Pushing herself up onto her elbow, she brushed the hair from your face and asked, “You came all this way for one evening of meaningless but fantastic sex?”

You shrugged. Your tone was light so that there was the chance to pass it off as a joke but you both knew that you meant every word you said. “It doesn’t have to be meaningless. Or a one off. Just because I’m leaving tomorrow doesn’t mean I couldn’t come back. If you wanted me to.”

“Let’s see if you can survive tonight before we go making any other plans, yeah?”

“Someone’s a little confident. I hope that’s not just an empty threat.”

“A threat? Y/N, it’s a promise.”


End file.
